


Hurt

by Anonymous



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Caring Dean Winchester, Caring Sam Winchester, Dean Knocks Castiel Out, Dean Winchester Takes Care of Castiel, Found Family, Gen, Hurt Castiel, Hurt/Comfort, Sam Winchester Takes Care of Castiel, The Winchesters Are Protective Of Castiel, Unconscious Castiel, Wound Tending, castiel in pain, he has to
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:15:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22424677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: When Cas is attacked by one of Michael’s creations, his wing is so badly wounded that it’s impossible to treat while he’s conscious.But with no sedative available to work on a angel, that just leaves Dean one way to render him unconscious.He may not like it, but there’s no other choice.
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Comments: 3
Kudos: 109
Collections: Supernatural Anon Kink Meme





	Hurt

The lights came up as they entered the infirmary suite, Cas hanging between them like a dead weight. 

He groaned as they hauled him over to the nearest bed, and Dean knew it hurt, _had to_ , but there was no way they could help him anywhere but here.

No other room in the bunker had both the space, a comfortable place for him to lie down, and the things they’d need to fix him.

Sam sat Cas down at the bottom of the bed, and held him upright while Dean did his best to stop the angel’s wings getting pinned or crushed as they laid him back.

He looked awful. His skin was the colour of milk, and sweat beaded his forehead. Dean knew what pain was like, and he knew just how much of it Cas was in, right then; he’d seen that thing, whatever it was, one of the last few monster concoctions of Michael’s that had still been running around, seize Cas’s wing and bite right into it.

It was dead now, but the damage was done, and Dean had to hope they were able to fix it.

Sam stepped back, looking afraid as he glanced from Cas’s face to the injured wing.

Ever since they’d tried to get Cas to the car, he’d shut his wings tight, keeping them snug against his back. It had been the only way to get him home, but now he was there they had to get him to open them back up again. The injured one, at least.

“Cas,” Sam said.

Cas looked between them and had to know what they wanted him to do.

He squeezed his eyes shut, and the brothers watched the damaged wing tremble with effort, but nothing else happened.

“Cas?” Dean touched his shoulder gently. “Come on, you have to, or we can’t help you.”

“I’m...trying….”

And he was, Dean saw that. The effort was in every inch of him, and for a moment he was worried Cas might pass out.

That might be better. He exchanged a worried look with his brother.

“I can’t get it…. It won’t open.”

Dean figured. He pulled on a pair of gloves and handed some to Sam as well.

“Then we need to open it. Cas, I’m sorry, this is gonna hurt, dude. But we have to.”

Cas nodded, but he looked terrified as Dean reached for the hurt wing. He was as gentle as he could be, but the first hint of pressure and the wing shook violently in his grasp and Cas almost shot off the table.

Only Sam pushing back against him kept him there, and it said a lot that Sam was able to hold the angel down.

“Okay, okay, hold on, Cas.” Dean backed away, hands raised, and watched Sam rest his hand gently on Cas’s forehead.

He caught Sam’s attention and nodded his head towards the hall, heading out and waiting for his brother to join him.

“We’re gonna have to knock him out.”

Sam grimaced. “I think so. Do we even have anything….?”

Dean kept a careful tally of what their stocks were of medicines, bandages, and the like. They had been given, by Ketch, a small quantity of angel sedative (he’d insisted Dean ask no questions, which Dean took to mean the Brits had developed that shit with a certain angel in mind, and he didn’t want to think about their plans anymore than that), but it was all gone, now, used up when Cas had stepped in front of Sam when some hunters had tried to run his brother down.

Cas had taken the full brunt of the impact, keeping Sam safe, but he’d ended up looking like roadkill and, with Heaven going down like the Titanic, affecting every surviving angel’s Grace, they’d had to patch him up after.

That had been one of the worst nights of Dean’s life, probably the same was true for all of them, with more than an hour of setting bones, stitching up wounds, and then settling in for a night of watching Cas until he woke up.

But it meant no more angel morphine, and Ketch was gone, so if they wanted to knock Cas out, there was only one way Dean knew how.

He left Sam to watch Cas and then went upstairs to their car. 

The Enochian knuckle dusters were still in the trunk, since some of Cas’s relatives still had it in for them, and Dean picked them up, already hating what he was going to have to do.

He went downstairs, and Sam’s face fell when he saw the golden glint of metal in Dean’s hand.

“Cas.” Dean carefully cupped Cas’s chin, and turned the angel’s head towards him. “Cas, we can knock you out, angel, but we don’t have any of that sedative left Ketch gave us. We’d need to find another way.”

He held up the knuckle dusters, the sigils etched into the surface looking threatening especially this close to their angel.

Cas swallowed uneasily, but they all knew how it was. He couldn’t stay in this kind of pain, with an untreated bite from one of those things.

He might be an angel, but Michael had whipped up some horrific hybrid creatures, and there was no telling what ill effects Cas could sufffer, especially since his mojo wasn’t at full strength.

He glanced from the dusters to Dean, and then nodded.

For a moment, Dean couldn’t do anything.

That Cas would trust him, like this, after everything that had happened lately….

It made him a little unsteady, and then Sam said, “Dean,” and he pulled himself together.

He knew how to hit somebody, to make it hurt, to put them down, but he’d never had to do it like this.

Dean slipped the brutal metal band around his fingers, and closed his fist tight.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he promised. “We’ll fix you up and we’ll be here when you come to, okay?”

Cas nodded, again, and Dean brought his other hand down gently across Cas’s eyes, making sure he kept them shut.

He looked once at Sam, and then there could be no more stalling.

He slammed his fist hard into Cas’s jaw, snapping the angel’s head to the side, hoping one punch was enough, that it’d knock him cold, but that it did that and no more.

Sam turned Cas back to face him, face darkening at the immediate redness and swelllng springing up where Dean had punched him.

But Cas didn’t react. Sam checked his pulse, nodded, and then lifted one of the angel’s eyelids.

He was out of it.

“Dean,” Sam said. He reached over to rest his hand on Dean’s shoulder, and Dean made himself look away from the unconscious figure between them.

“Okay.” His fingers shook as he took off the knuckle duster, and set it aside even when he wanted to throw it.

He put the gloves back on and, with Sam’s help, gently unfolded Cas’s hurt wing.

No wonder he hadn’t been able to open it.

The bite mark was horrific, like the jaws of the thing that had inflicted it. 

Several deep curved incisions were arranged in two semi circles, the wound peppered with smaller pin pricks that were the lesser teeth around the creature’s mouth.

And something black and sluggish was leaking around the broken feathers.

The wing was a mess.

“We need to clean it out, first. I”ll get some saline.”

Dean nodded. There were a pair of pliers in the kit (it not being the first time one of them had had to remove a foreign body bigger than splinters from the other), and he carefully grabbed hold of the shaft of one of the broken feathers.

Cas didn’t exactly have a whole lot to spare, and now this.

He grit his teeth and pulled. It came out clean, blood dotting up behind it, and Dean felt rage bubbling over.

What kind of fucked up world had him hurting his best friend to help him?

He set the feather aside, and kept going. 

Once he’d cleared all the broken or half pulled feathers away, Dean stepped back to let Sam in.

He watched his brother rinse out the wound, and the thick black gunk oozed down over the wing.

Michael was already dead, but Dean could have happily done him over for this.

Finally, the wounds ran clear, just blood, nothing else, and Dean grabbed a trolley with sterilised needles and thread.

Some of the teeth marks were too small to do more than disinfect and dress, but the deeper ones needing stitching to close, and Dean knew when Cas woke up he’d be sore and itchy as hell.

There just wasn’t anything he could do about it.

But Cas was like them: tough. A Winchester. 

He’d cope.

When they were done, both brothers stripped off their gloves and cleaned up, and sat down to wait for their angel to wake up.

The wing, they’d pulled another table over for it to rest on, and it twitched occasionally as Cas lay there unconscious.

It never left Dean’s mind that maybe he’d really hurt Cas with that punch, but he knew it was just the ever present fear he had of something happening to his family.

Even wearing those knuckle dusters, he knew as a human he couldn’t put enough force into the blow to do more than just knock Cas out for a while.

He’d wake up, sore and confused, probably out of it for a while, but he’d be fine.

And they’d take care of him until he was.

All the same, Dean didn’t relax until Cas did wake up, just as sore as Dean anticipated but, with his wound cleaned and dressed, it didn’t take him too long to get back on his feet.

And his brothers were with him every step of the way.


End file.
